


i had been lost to you, sunlight

by wickedbad



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aragorn has a crush, Canon-Typical Violence, Closer to the films in terms of like... most things, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Slight Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedbad/pseuds/wickedbad
Summary: In all Aragorn's years, he had yet to see a smile quite the same, for he thought of it often and searched for it in others that he met along the way. But, he knew that such a thing — so fair and gentle, it was — could only belong to Legolas; so becoming and familiar, he was, yet like a wandering dream. And, it swelled his heart to think of a day when that smile was reserved for him.— or, Aragorn is quite in love with Legolas, always longing for more, until his patience is well-rewarded.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 29
Kudos: 141





	i had been lost to you, sunlight

An elusive people the Rangers of the North were — like the ebbing waves of a shadow, a smoldering fire doused by harsh, frosted winds. They moved about like a whisper, drowned out by the hums of the earth, passing through the stillest places in silence. In these lands, they roamed like wolves prowling through the night, faint creatures beneath the pale light of the moon. Secret protectors of the realm, they were — guardians of the land and those within it, so they had come to be. 

In the eastern lands of Mirkwood, now, the shadow of the night had pulled its veil over the earth, a blanket of eventide with specks of starlight beneath the clouds. The night brought upon a soft chill that swirled in from the mountain winds, humming through the twisting branches that lined the forest. There was a small fire that crackled beneath the forest canopy, the bright embers floating upward until they disappeared into the darkness; yet, it was not quite so balm. The air was stiff, stale with the turning thoughts of Men who camped beneath the stars — pockets of light that peeked through the openings of the trees, which guided them through the avenues of the shadowed night. 

It had been but only a few days since the Rangers arrived in the Woodland Realm, where they sought refuge within the walls of the forest, under the warrant of the Elvenking. Yet, the hours crawled on like days themselves, passing like broken clocks stuck within the same minute. And, the nights had been quiet, too, filled with naught beside the familiar hums of nature — somber lullabies, they were, playing into the depths of the wildwood after the sun faded beneath the horizon. 

The company of Men was led by Aragorn, for he had recruited them to follow him into the east, deep into the lands of Rhovanion. For many months, it seemed, they had been tracking a lingering threat in the west, one that did not wish to resolve itself with ease; though, they seldom did. Some time ago, it had been discovered that a ring of spies, hailing from the depths of Mordor, had been seen in places they should not have been. The Rangers, as persistent as they were, had chased them quite far, across the flowing waters of the River Anduin; and, there they had lost sight of them for they had disappeared into the sheltered forests of southern Mirkwood. Aragorn led his company through these lands, through the Woodland Realm, to receive permission from King Thranduil that the Dúnedain could reside in the forest henceforth until the threat had been resolved. 

For many days and nights, he stayed awake, and he had not grown tired; yet, he could feel the ache seeping into his body, and it would come to settle into his bones until he could no longer bring himself to stand. He had not slept for his wandering mind would not allow for such a thing, not when the Enemy was so near, lingering somewhere like a wretched beast between the thousands of trees that separated them. Alas, he knew that the hour was near when he would fall into a deep slumber ere his head could fully rest against the ground. 

But, it would not come this late hour of the night, for it was then that a line of Elves appeared from the north; they filed into the camp, adorned with sturdy bows and glistening daggers as if they were ready for a great battle. Though, they lacked in numbers for such an affair, for their outfit was but a mere sample of what the Elvenking could conjure if he so wished. They stood in a tight formation until they parted, and a familiar face walked through the midst of them, negligent to the disgruntled eyes of tired Men that followed him. Upon the sight of such an Elf, there was a twinge in Aragorn’s chest that caused his heart to flutter, as if he had been caught off-guard by something most unexpected — like the air had been drawn swift from his lungs. 

There, before him, was Legolas, who stood at the base of their humble encampment with grace and prestige that had passed to him from his father. There had been many reunions since first they met, scattered appearances throughout the years when Aragorn traveled east; and, he would often seek a reason to visit Mirkwood so that he could once again look upon the fairest of faces he had known — like a flower in bloom amongst a field of wilt. In all his years, he had yet to see a smile quite the same, for he thought of it often and searched for it in others that he met along the way. But, he knew that such a thing — so fair and gentle, it was — could only belong to Legolas; so becoming and familiar, he was, yet like a wandering dream. And, it swelled his heart to think of a day when that smile was reserved for him; it was a selfish, festering thought that picked at him like crows to a carcass, he knew, but he could not bring himself to fight against the tides of want. 

“Master Elf,” He spoke, after a lingering moment that pulled him back, “I did not expect company this night, or any, for that matter. Does my Lord not trust our presence in his forest? The terms of our agreement were quite simple, I believe; that we would disturb none, should none disturb us.” 

Legolas offered a knowing grin, “My father does not trust the acorn once it has fallen from the tree; he desires many eyes upon you — more than we may offer, now — but, perhaps, this will satiate his unease.” 

“Do you intend to stay with us, then?” The taste of a plea formed against his tongue, so sweet it laid there, but he swallowed it down before he could make a fool of himself. “We do not have much amongst us, for we do not need it; but, we shall welcome your company, despite its intentions.” 

“If it does not complicate things, then, we would stay amongst you. As you know, we are quite skilled at minding our own; should you not so much as look our way, then you may not remember that we are here.” 

A simple enough task for any other Man, surely, but it was much easier said than done; Aragorn knew better of himself to think that he could tame his wandering eyes, for they had a habit of lingering too long when they shouldn’t. Nonetheless, he gestured toward their encampment, where the Rangers were strewn about minding their own. “Make yourself comfortable, then, but be warned that the nights have been quite long, and the days not so forgiving, either.” 

Upon his words, the Elves poured into the camp, making for separate ends to establish their own guard posts, and they stood with their bows drawn and ready as if the Enemy was about to jump from behind the nearest tree. The other Rangers went about their business, sharpening their blades or sleeping in shifts to prepare for the patrols sent further into the forest. When all had settled, Aragorn departed toward the fire, which he poked at until the dying flames came to life once more, and it was only but a few moments until Legolas appeared beside him. 

“How long do you intend to stay in our lands?” Legolas asked in the tongue of his people, paired with a soft smile as he sat cross-legged before the fire. 

“We stayed two months in one camp, back in our lands; thus, I assume it could be just as long here, though it depends on the will of the Enemy, of course.” 

Legolas chuckled, “Of course… If the choice were but my own, I would permit you to stay as long as you please; and, sometime after, even.” 

“Is that so?” Aragorn asked. The heat from the fire had turned sweltering, and he could not help but take notice of how Legolas appeared in the glistening light of the flame — ethereal, he was, and he could not believe he was truly before him. “I suppose it has been quite some time since last I visited your lands.” 

“Indeed, it has been. Aside, I enjoy the company, for you often come bearing wonderful tales that are exciting enough to please the ears of an Elf, even.” 

Aragorn laughed, “I am afraid that I do not have any new stories to share, for it has been rather slow-going since last we met.” 

“Fear not, Aragorn, your company is but enough. I have cherished all our meetings, as you have become quite a friend. But, if I am being truthful, it was your first visit that I remember best.” 

“And, why is that?” His heartbeat was much faster, then, like there were many drums inside his chest. And, he wondered if Legolas could hear it, for it must have been quite loud, threatening to burst with each passing moment. 

“I had not seen the likes of such a Man before,” Legolas replied, a slight grin teasing upon his lips, “One that appeared as if he had nothing to hide, yet did so, all the same. You piqued my interest, I suppose.” 

Aragorn’s heart fluttered, then, and he tried to swallow the feeling so that it would no longer come to pass. And, surely, his eyes had played some sort of devilish trick on him, for he must have imagined that Legolas had moved closer beside him. The way that the moonlight poured into his eyes, as if they had turned to stars themselves, made for quite a beautiful sight; one so mesmerizing that he could hardly muster the strength to look away. There was something about knowing that, perhaps, Legolas thought of him in a similar manner; and, he would hold onto that, even if he knew better than to do so. 

Legolas looked upon him, then, as though he were made of glass — as if the veil had been lifted, exposing himself to the world in such a tender way. And, he felt quite brave when he tilted his head just a bit, imagining the feeling of Legolas’ lips against his own. But, a fleeting moment it was, for it was over before anything came to be. Aragorn pulled back, then, his eyes fixed on the crackling embers of the fire before him, and he could feel the burn of it against his skin.

After a quiet moment, Legolas placed his hand upon Aragorn’s knee, and so becoming within the light of the fire, he was. “You ought to rest; you needn’t worry, though, for my patrol will watch the forest, and I will wake you should anything go amiss.” 

And, he could not fight against it even if he desired, for that haunting hour had come at last; his body ached for sleep and so heavy, it felt. Thus, he made for the spot on the ground he had reserved for rest, and he did not have much time to mull over the events of the night, though his wandering mind longed for it. Then, he slipped into a deep slumber that lulled him into the realm of dreams, so peaceful it was there. 

*

The days that followed went on just the same: the sun crept passed the horizon, crawling through the sky until it sank once more. It had been quiet in the depths of the wildwood, and as comforting as that once was, it had become a bit unsettling. 

“We have heard naught from the group we sent to head off the spies,” Aragorn told Legolas as he sat upon the ground, sharpening his sword with a whetstone. He tried to hide his worry, and, while the other Rangers did not take notice of it, Legolas did. “And, I am not one to believe that no news is better than poor news; though, this forest is quite large, and the Enemy must know their way about it well.” 

“If it would ease your troubled mind, I would send my patrols further south to find your Rangers, for my people know these lands quite well,” Legolas offered. 

“Nay, I would not risk your patrols unless I felt there was no choice left. But, I appreciate the sentiment, nonetheless, dear Legolas.”

Legolas smiled to himself, then, a sneaky little thing that he tried to hide, and he busied his hands with the arrows in his quiver. Then, they settled into a comfortable quiet once more, the stillness filling the spaces between them, preparing for the long night that lay before them. But, then, came a rustling from the forest, and the Elves stood alert with their bows drawn toward the sound. 

“Make haste!” A voice called from between the trees, and with it came four Rangers carrying another’s limp body between them, his feet dragging against the ground. The Man’s body was covered in bruises and cuts, his skin more purple than not, and blood had seeped into the fabric of his clothing. The other Rangers brought him toward the center of the encampment and laid him against the cool earth, propping the back of his head against a make-shift pillow. And, the other Rangers looked as if they had just returned from the eves of a great battle, too, with their bodies decorated with the marks of warriors, their clothes stained red. 

“What caused this?” Aragorn asked while he dropped to his knees beside the wounded Ranger, whose eyes fluttered about, slipping in-and-out of consciousness as he struggled to catch his breath. 

One of the Rangers that carried the Man stepped forward, struggling to mask his own pain while he nursed his wounded arm, “We were ambushed by spiders, Sir; we went further into the forest to investigate the land we had yet seen when they appeared. We were not prepared for such an onslaught.” 

“Nay, I would think not,” Aragorn replied, then gestured toward the Men that surrounded him. “Be swift, for we need medicine and—” 

Legolas knelt beside him, then, and placed his hand upon Aragorn’s forearm, his touch lingering there, “I have seen this wound before; there is naught that can be done for him beside the mercy of a swift death.” 

Aragorn opened his mouth to protest, but he swallowed the words — dry against his tongue, they were — when Legolas offered him a soft, knowing shake of the head, his eye swimming with sorrow. Aragorn’s heart felt quite heavy, then, though he knew what was expected of him, that all he could do was honor the Man in the last moments of his life. “So be it, then… I will see to it.” 

He brought the edge of his blade to the Ranger’s throat, then slit across in a swift motion, and he held the Man until his body turned limp in his grasp; the remainder of the company bowed their heads while others knelt upon the ground, some whispering words of passage as they began to mourn. 

“Be at peace,” Aragorn whispered, then pressed his fingers to his lips before placing them upon the forehead of the fallen Ranger. Then, he wiped the blood from his blade and stood, facing his company. “In the morrow, we shall take his body to the river, where we will send him off with our regards. For now, though, we must continue to work, for there is never a moment we may let down our guard. Rest, and tend to your wounds, but let this serve as a reminder that we must protect our fellow Man,” His eyes glanced across the camp toward Legolas, “and Elf.” 

With that, Aragorn sheathed his sword and left the camp, lingering at the edges of the clearing for quite some time until he sat with his back pressed against a tree. When the sun started to sink and the sky had turned to a purple-pink haze, Legolas hovered before him. 

“‘Tis not an easy thing for one to do,” Legolas said, “And, I admire you for it, as it was quite noble.” 

Aragorn sighed, “‘Twas the least that could be done if I could not go back and prevent such a thing from happening. And, as the leader of this company, I do not wish for the others to plague their minds with thoughts of death; for it is poison, truly, to be consumed with such misery.” 

Legolas sank to the ground beside him, conscious of how close their bodies were to one another, “And, would you worry about death?” 

“Nay, it seldom crosses my mind; there are far greater perils that I would not waste my breath on such a thing, not while I am still standing on the earth’s soil,” He paused for a moment, the evening winds bringing about a chill that lingered in the air, “Death, as tight of a grip that it may hold, cannot be outrun; but, if one is wise — and, perhaps, holds a bit of fortune — it may be avoided.” 

“I thought most Men feared death; though, perhaps, you are not most Men.” 

“I fear not for myself, but for others, that is true. The heart can only hold so much grief before it can take no more.” 

Legolas’ face softened, then, “You do not appear to be one to hold much love in his heart, Aragorn. Though, I do not mean that to be cruel, but rather that you keep yourself guarded like a locked door. And, in a way, I believe I understand for this day has left me wondering about how it must be to live a short life — to feel like the hours are slipping through your fingers without the means to catch them.” 

“Aye, it can be so. Though, I have lived more days than the lifetimes of some Men, and I do not take them for granted — not when life is but a precious thing. But, it can twist one’s mind to think about the facts of death for too long, as there is not much logic to it, after all.” 

“You are quite wise, though I am not surprised to discover such a thing… ‘Tis a pity that we have not spent more time together, Aragorn, for I feel that I could talk to you for hours and it would pass like no time at all.”

Aragorn offered him an empty smile, then, with so many words left unsaid like blank pages of a book. There, beside Legolas, he wished to forget the perils they faced and sit until the sun rose, seeping beneath the golden clouds and flushing the world in its splendor. Perhaps, he thought, Legolas felt quite the same, for he did not return to the encampment after their words had settled into quiet. They sat together, beneath the twisting branches of a mighty tree, listening to the sounds of the winds and the slight hitches in their breath; and, they wished that the sun would not come to rise in the morrow, that they could sit beneath the stars henceforth to the end, residing within the solace of the other’s company. 

*

Three days had come to pass, as slow as the rest, without much to be done about the Enemy that still lingered. In the early hours of the morrow, when most of the Rangers were asleep, Aragorn slipped into the shelter of the forest, his feet quiet against the soft, dew-stained earth, eager to journey further to see what could be found. For he knew that his company was growing restless, hoping for some sort of resolution to the threat that they had been facing for months. 

The trees were still, and the winds had since settled without much sound to carry through the wildwood. There was not much to be seen beside the likes of small creatures that scurried about upon the soft presses of footsteps. He had not been out long, and the sun had only lightened the world to a softer shade of darkness, then, when he heard a stir in the woods behind him. 

Legolas appeared before him, then, his bow in hand with a smile upon his face. “I thought it better of you to venture here alone.” 

“I have traveled through worse places on my lonesome,” Aragorn said and lowered his blade upon the sight of him, “Yet, you come after me, the fool that I am.” 

Legolas grinned, warm and wide like the sun itself, “Perhaps I could not sit idle while you stumbled toward death.” 

“You have little faith in me, do you, Legolas? That I cannot be trusted to patrol the forests of your lands on my own — that I must have you lingering beside me like a shadow,” He feigned offense, but could not maintain the charade for long, for his smile betrayed him. 

“I know your words not to be true, that you do not think so little of me that you would compare me to the likes of a wandering nuisance.” 

Aragorn swallowed the words that laid heavy upon his tongue, his mouth dry, then, without the proper means to speak. And, he felt as if Legolas could see through him, truly, to know his thoughts before he could conjure them. When too long of a quiet moment had passed, he gestured toward the forest behind him, “Very well, then. I do not plan to go much further, though, but I will not decline the company should you walk beside me rather than lurking like a beast in the shadows.” 

Legolas smiled and took to Aragorn’s side, a comfortable place that was. They carried on further through the wildwood, listening to the sounds that came with the early hours of the morrow and the songbirds that awoke with the sun. They ventured forth for some time longer, and the light of the sky had turned to a pale overcast that poured through the tops of the trees, guiding the way further into the forest. 

“Do you plan to stay amongst us until the threat has been resolved? I should pity you, though, for at this pace it does not seem likely that it will end anon,” Aragorn said, disrupting the comfortable silence that had built between them. 

“If my father wishes for such a thing to be, then I suppose I will stay amongst you until the time comes for us to part ways.” 

“And, if the choice was your own?” 

Legolas paused for a moment, mulling over his words, “Then, I would stay, as well.” 

The quiet took hold over them once more, but silence can seem louder than not when words are left adrift overhead. They could not have walked on for more than a few minutes when something dropped from above, slithering through the trees, it had been, and knocked Aragorn to the ground. There, he fought against it for a moment, his vision blurred, but he found that it was a giant spider crushing his chest; and, it swiped at him with one of its many long legs, though it was quite fortunate that the creature missed. Before it could strike once more, Legolas drove an arrow through its head, and its heavy body went limp atop Aragorn. 

“Thank you,” Aragorn breathed out as Legolas fell to his knees beside him. And, the air hitched in his throat, a tight burn there, upon the realization how close their bodies were once Legolas cradled the back of his head in his hands. 

“We are fortunate ‘twas but one rogue spider, for if we had been ambushed like your company…” Legolas trailed off, and he held him there for a moment, brushing a strand of hair from Aragorn’s face to look upon a small cut he had garnered across his cheek. “I am grateful that you were not badly wounded.” 

And, when Legolas traced his finger across the length of Aragorn’s jaw, he was sure that he would never come to know coherent thoughts again — that he would never speak sense from his parched tongue henceforth. He could feel Legolas’ chest moving beside him; the rhythmic pulsing of his heart that matched the beat of his own. Then, a wicked thought crossed his mind, to reach for the back of Legolas’ neck and pull him down so that he may feel his warmth against him — to no longer fear that touch, to welcome it without a second thought. 

Though, instead, Legolas stood and broke their bodies apart from one another; then, he extended his grasp to help Aragorn from the harsh ground. When they were both at equal footing, they stood still for a moment, and the flutter in Aragorn’s chest was as if a hundred birds had been set free inside him. He still longed for that warmth, to bask in it like the earth upon the eves of dawn. 

“You trouble your mind too much, Aragorn,” Legolas breathed out, laced with soft laughter, “For, I expected a Man such as yourself to fear nothing, to take what he wants without regard for all else. And, to think that you have been gifted with the opportunity not once, but twice now, and done naught with it.” 

“Perhaps, you do not know me quite as well as you think, Legolas.” 

Legolas grinned, then, a devilish little thing, it was, “Allow me to show you how such a thing is done; to see something you want and claim it as your own,” And, with that, he leaned forward, closing the space between them until there was naught left. His hands went to Aragorn’s face, holding him there between his soft palms, feeling the scratch of stubble against his skin. And, he tasted like sunshine, so bright against his tongue, he was, as if it were always meant to be such a way. 

And, Aragorn felt his own hands rest upon Legolas’ hips as if he wished to hold him in place and not let him move, for he thought if time allowed, he would stay like that forever. The sun would pass into the moon and stars, and they would still be in the forest, consumed with naught but the other’s tender embrace. 

When they pulled apart, so cold now, they felt, Legolas grinned with his nose lingering against Aragorn’s, “That is what I expected from such a Man — such a noble, mighty Man.”

Aragorn reached out to cusp the curve of Legolas’ face and pulled him in once more like he had drawn fresh breath from new life. And, his lips were of honey, so sweet and tender they were upon his own. When it was over, he felt quite strange, as if he were equal parts empty and whole. 

“I never thought such a thing would be,” Legolas said, “though I hoped for it often, when you would visit and beyond then, even.” 

“As would I,” Aragorn admitted, and the warmth bubbled in his chest, for he had not felt such sweet air within his lungs for quite some time, now. 

Legolas smiled at him, then, just like he had in his memories throughout the long years since they met. The sun melted through the trees, and the world was but a dream, swallowing him like a castaway to the sea. Such a beautiful thing, it was, to want for so long and have patience rewarded with the sweetest of virtues. And, perhaps, he had held himself back from a good thing for far too long. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading my fic, and i hope that you enjoyed it!! ever since i finished my [first aralas fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639829/chapters/59532244) (shameless self promotion) i've been really wanting to write more for them. so, thank you to [@myrkvidr](https://twitter.com/myrkvidr) for the inspiration/idea!
> 
> anyway, i really love these two and i hope that you liked this little fic!! <3


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